Enemy Discourse
by voicelord
Summary: Four Season Collection: Spring triggers a whole new cycle. For Sakura, the only survivor of the Haruno Clan, it begins with an old mortimer, a faceless ninja and a unicorn chasing ANBU from within the hidden depths of 'Root'. Sai x Sakura
1. The root beneath the earth

**Chapter 1: The root beneath the earth**

"What is 'Root' Jiraiya-sama?" The small child asked while emerald orbs roamed across the passing fields.

"...It is an independent subdivision of the ANBU. Remember when I talked about ANBU and the village of Konoha?" The old man's question was met by a silent nod of affirmation as the child went back to admiring the blooming flowers.

The emerging scent of spring filled the air and the whole environment appeared to be coming out of its long-winter slumber to greet the early birds. It was almost as captivating as the ethereal creature – _almost_.

Knowing very well that she would ask no further, Jiraiya decided to take matters into his own hands; just as he had always done with regards to anything that involved this little one.

"The organisation 'Root' is a lot more secretive than the general structuring of ANBU." The old Mortimer commenced. "They are kept hidden from the rest of the village to ensure that no one, both the enemies and our neighbouring villages are aware of their goals or even their existence."

With that simple explanation, the small child with cherry locks was purposely guided towards the direction of the bright colourful petals.

_A little detour wouldn't hurt._

As expected, she allowed her unoccupied hand to gingerly brush against the plantations, jade orbs tracing every fluttering movement in silent wonder.

The slightest hint of fondness in her eyes made Jiraiya **wanting **to walk the whole distance.

"While living up in the mountains, I made sure to keep track of every movement of every organisation. 'Root' is also one of the organisations I have been monitoring constantly." The seasoned shinobi noted at the back of his mind how those tiny steps lingered just a second more around the wild daisies. "Their activities have reached an all time high during the past few weeks and that is why I have decided to assist them in certain matters." And with those words; their merry detour came to an end.

Without another word, the silent creature was tucked safely in his arms as he quickened his pace.

Allowing the chakra to build up around his feet, the great Sannin sped off into the distance; both occupants deep in their own field of thoughts.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

_Jiraiya had always been aware of the implications of being a ninja._

_Soldiers meant pointless slaughtering of thousands whereas ninja meant countless deaths achieved in perfection._

_The art of killing was something that mere citizens would never understand. It was pointless to give reassurances and justifications for the infinite killings occurring across the different villages._

_This was because the main purpose of being a ninja had nothing to do with the distinction between good and evil. It was never about justice and it did not come even **close **to the idea of everlasting peace._

_Assassinations were necessary components in order to ensure societies functioned properly._

_They were just like any other occupation that individuals worked hard to fulfil. The only difference was that of the job description. It was as simple as that. The process leading to one's destined end was merely quickened for the greater good. After all, the inevitability of death made it a necessary aspect of life, which was what ultimately motivated these assassins to operate in this dark business – as the Devil's advocate._

_After all, death – the process of one's soul leaving the body – consumes all._

_No matter how evil the person, no matter how good the person, no matter how greedy the person, no matter how kind the person; death consumes **all**. Such knowledge ultimately made it pointless, in his opinion, to conceal their gruesome deeds. It was pointless to shower oneself with justifications. It was pointless to drive away the guilt. What's done is done._

_For a ninja, killing should never be explained. For a shinobi, killing should never be ignored. For a kunoichi, killing must never be forgotten. For these assassins, killing was the means to an end. That was all there was to it. There was no need to apply complicated philosophical understandings to the mission at hand. These deadly members were, from a young age, brought up to follow the principle that death is part of life. No extensive importance is placed upon such an act in the ninja academies. It was nothing more and nothing less._

_Such cold hard facts allowed Jiraiya, the "Gama Sennin", to not fear death. After all, years and years of solitude in the sacred mountains did tend to do that to a person._

_He only hoped that he would die in honour to uphold everything that he had been taught, that he had **tried** to represent._

_All that would be left of him in this world would be the memories, the whisper of his name and his soulless corpse._

_...Life was so beautiful and yet so ironic._

_It was surrounded by greed, deception and darkness and yet, human beings always managed to find some sort of happiness out of the most insignificant things, like the arbitrary ideology of hope._

_The sheer light of hope, a silver lining that makes one struggle to breathe for yet another day; such false conceptions of reality that continues to manipulate the minds of oblivious individuals... A false fairy tale told to every single child before bedtime. The conception that even the most skilled ninja ends up getting addicted to in their days of youth consequently resulting in ambition over-riding all that of logic._

_Similarly, Jiraiya had allowed such falsifications to control his goals._

_He had allowed 'hope' to invade his internal system and in the end, it was the force behind such hopefulness that broke him **that **day. The day Orochimaru left the village. He had been such a fool to even think for a moment that he just might be able to beat his best friend. Such wishful thinking only led to consequences that even he had not been prepared for. How could he have been so stupid to think that he would prevail? That righteousness and justice would overpower greed and evil?_

_How wrong he had been._

_And lying there on the ground, broken and defeated, he felt everything inside him crumble into a void of nothingness._

_He witnessed his beliefs, values and hope escaping his battered body at that instant. He learned the hard way that light did **not** consume darkness and lost the will to live that day. He had lost all perceptions of beauty in this world._ _Loosing all that he never knew he could; the battered ninja did the only thing he could to save his sanity._

**_He ran_**_._

_Living the life of a hermit had allowed him to escape these false notions of the world._

_Living alone allowed him to think without being corrected. It allowed him to taste unlimited philosophies of life, both the good and the bad. But most important of all, it allowed him to escape 'reality' – the kind that was created and constructed by the village; constraining him from the very beginning. This allowed him to wearily continue on a day-by-day basis. Notions such as expectations were pointless, for you are bound to be disappointed in the end. Goals were time consuming, for death was all that stood grimly just around the corner. Beliefs and values held no strength for there would always be someone stronger than you, ready to break you down in any given moment._

_He preferred to keep his world empty. He preferred the isolation and the solitude. He preferred merely being himself._

_Perhaps that was why **she** was the only beautiful thing in his world of irony; when he found himself **crumbling **for the second time in his life._

_It had been her eyes that had first caught his attention. The screams of the dying and the unbearable heat of the fire had been roaring in the background. But even as the village was being erased in all that of professional efficiency and deadliness, Jiraiya remained standing; hypnotised by the little creature. Despite all this destruction, despite all this devastation happening around her; the emptiness evident in his own dead eyes could **not **be traced in emerald ones. And even as the child lay battered and broken on the ground, there was still – daresay – **light **in those mesmerising eyes. _

_...And soon after, Jiraiya remembers running away from it all; back to his sacred mountain, back to his mind-numbing solitude – like the coward he was._

_It was only two years later he stumbled across the little one again._

_Clutching onto various numbers of bloodied katana, emerald orbs blazed with unknown emotions; analysing everything and **piercing **into his own._ _She still had the same inner flame; the young girl with piercing emerald eyes and soft rosette hair and he had been at a loss for words when each step she took brought her undeniably closer, perhaps a little too close._

_And the air intensified as her extensive wounds came into light._

_It didn't take a physician to make the diagnosis that her left leg, or perhaps her ankle, was severely broken while her ribs contracted unevenly under her laboured breathing. With every discovery, he had cringed with visible distaste while his fists trembled under the sheer force of anger. Numerous cuts and bruises adorned her small body while deep crimson bathed a piece of cloth that might have resembled a kimono. And yet, it was undeniable that her presence radiated authority. Despite being caked with mud, blood and bits of human flesh; the gruesome sight was so mesmerisingly **beautiful**._

_She had looked ghastly but ethereal in a way that was not of this world._

_His initial reaction had been to approach the child. But as the sound of metal drawing forth for battle commenced, he was forced to observe with a sense of weariness. Her tiny hands gripped onto the battered hilt of her weapons. He could still remember how dry his throat had been. Her look of recognition and pure hatred had his heart hammering against his throat. To think...his past mistake was standing before him in the form of this youngling. He could still remember the bitter taste of irony lingering inside his mouth. He could still remember the chaotic emotions stirring within his empty soul. He could remember being startled by it all; **immensely** startled._

_But what he did next had been even more surprising than his inner conflicts._

_He smoothly dropped to the dusty ground sitting down in a comfortable position, perfect for meditation. He merely sat on the ground as if to wait for the angel of death to consume him, **waiting** for her to strike._ _He remembers closing his eyes, thinking back to all those days he had spent as a child, recollecting his former best friends, his sensei, the village and his everything. He had been bombarded by feelings of surrealness. He had waited for death to take him away for so, so long and finally, she was here. And yet, he couldn't quite grasp it completely, that sense of full acceptance, as his final redemption had been sent fully packaged just for him._

_He remembers asking himself if this is what regret feels like, his unfinished goals, his past acquaintances, his undisturbed self-identity…and the child._ _The idea that he would leave this world without consoling the small child who he had brought grief upon not a few years past, brought a sense of uneasiness and feelings of unsettlement. He wanted to be part of the light – to touch, to cherish, to embrace and to treasure._

_He wanted **her** to **live**._

_And soon after, he recalls being consumed by the sweet, sweet scent of honey and cherry blossoms while the sharp edge of the katana disturbed the ground – circling around his seated form._

_Placed herself directly in front of his defeated form, making it impossible for him to avert his eyes away from all this glory, her soft voice relayed what none had done in many, **many** years. _

_"Fool," she had spat out to him that day._

_...One word that summed up all he had become. One word that demolished all that he had tried to conceal by his life of isolation and solitude. One word that had began all that he came to treasure, the beginning of their relationship – that of two comrades, an old man and a little girl, trying to survive this harsh world in ways they only knew how._

_Nevertheless, it had been the beginning of **everything** for him._

_It had been the beginning of his relationship with Haruno Sakura – the girl who lost everything in the hands of an old shell of a man, sitting not a short distance away._

* * *

"Ah, come little one," Jiraiya spoke when he saw the 9-year old child arising from the flower fields, his ancient features softening in an instant. "We best get started with the preparations for dinner."

She merely gave a soft nod and proceeded to retrieve the necessary items essential for the task at hand.

But the bright sparkle in emerald orbs could not be concealed. The sharp seasoned elder noted traces of mischievousness, pink locks tangled in soft flower petals – _sunflowers, perhaps_ – while the red dress was covered in a thin layer of earthy dust.

_She was up to something._

Yet, he happily engaged in their little pretence game as both individuals concentrated in their given tasks. And within a matter of minutes, the mouth-watering smell of vegetable soup filled the clearing in the middle of the forest. Her efficiency around their make-shift kitchen of fire pits never ceased to amaze him.

Jiraiya always wondered where she learned to cook like that.

Even after a full year of travelling together with this mysterious child, the surrounding veil of mystery meant he learned something new about her everyday. On their fateful day of reunion not a year past, her patience and concentration was particularly noteworthy – especially when it came to meditation. After carving an oval – which she continues to protest, was a circle – around them, she had placed her battered body next to his and meditated until she lost consciousness due to the considerate amount of blood loss.

He also learned she was the most stubborn little thing he had ever met in his _years_ of existence!

When Tsunade healed the child personally, due to his _polite_ request of course, was the time he learned that she partly enjoyed observing everything around her. She held her gaze firm and true throughout the whole ordeal. There was no hesitation or mindless blunder. She would continuously examine what was in front of her and analyse it until she was fully sated and satisfied.

He also learned that when she was amused (the incident of Tsunade trying to skin him alive due to his so-called 'perverted' comments), her eyes would soften, the dark emerald warming ever so slightly like the calm ocean.

_But she did not enjoy strangers._

She would withhold back whenever a foreign individual approached her.

He could see the visible tension in her muscles and the discomfort in her posture. Either they had to be acquainted and introduced by Jiraiya himself, or they had to have done something immensely favourable (or incredibly stupid) to receive her acceptance.

...Just like that stupid Uzumaki Naruto.

The day he had visited her at the hospital in the village of hidden leaf (which was the same day he bought the red dress for his little one at the market for a _very_ good price from a _very_ attractive shop assistant), the scrawny fox child had bounced around the hospital ward due to a small injury he had sustained while trying to climb one of the ancient trees in the training field. Apparently, a bully of some sort lied to him about a myth that demons could be extracted if you survive the fall from the tallest tree in Konoha grounds (_how stupid can kids get?_). Luckily, it appeared he had come out relatively unharmed simply due to pure luck.

And it was when Jiraiya had mentioned the ordeal to his small companion while she laid silently in her warden that he had his second chance to hear her delicate voice.

"_But was it_?" She had asked while looking attentively at the flowers he had brought for her.

"_Was it what?_" He had hesitantly asked back, absolutely enthralled by the tone and texture of her voice.

"_Was it simply due to pure luck?_"

It was all she announced and that was the end of their second conversation.

He also learned on the very day he was planning to go back to the mountains, that she did things her **own** way.

She simply did not tolerate others forcefully pushing her towards a particular direction of their liking.

After a few days of being confined in Konoha, Jiraiya began to feel that sense of restlessness – feelings almost claustrophobic being within heavily guarded walls. As the wounds began visibly healing, the somewhat respected Sannin began to pack what little he had for his inevitable journey back to the mountains. _And he had been an absolute wreck_. His head was screaming how much the child would benefit a stable village life while his heart greedily demanded for her soothing company – his only salvation.

And when he found her hospital bed to be empty, he felt his heart sink on that bright afternoon.

After absent-mindedly listening to Tsunade's speech regarding the "ungrateful little thing" and an extensive search around the hospital wards, he slowly trudged his way towards the main gates of Konoha that would lead him once again towards his empty solitude – only to find her waiting with a look of expectance. She had been wrapped in the red dress with foreign accessories decorating her arms and legs. Momentarily setting aside the question as to the origin of those decorative bangles, the astonished elder stared while his mouth hung open like an absolute idiot. Her three katana had been veiled as if to hide the mystery behind them, just as she hid herself behind a thick aurora of secrecy.

But when he finally met her eyes, they seemed to be questioning him as if to ask where he had been all this time. And that he was _late_. For the first time in years, he found himself consumed by the unexpected feeling of happiness and – daresay – contentment.

Before he could get his throat to function properly, her gentle firmness halted him in place.

"_My name is Sakura. Haruno Sakura,_" and she had made her way towards the mountains.

That had been the first time he was allowed a glimpse of her heavily guarded world, beginning with her forbidden name. Trailing behind her, he remembers urging the wind to carry his own introduction to the ears of the small child, "..._And my name is Jiraiya, little one._"

A cool touch on his hand jolted Jiraiya from his daydreaming session as he turned his attention towards the little bundle of pink, green and red.

"Dinner is ready Jiraiya-sama." With a small smile of gratitude, both individuals began eating their portions silently.

Sakura appeared to be a little disturbed by his excessive giddiness.

She kept one eye on him throughout the entire meal and it had Jiraiya wanting to give away the surprise even sooner. Unable to contain it any longer, he swallowed his dinner in one long gulp, as he finally announced the exciting news.

"I have decided that you and I will go and assist the ANBU organisation called 'Root'."


	2. Search for the unicorn

**Chapter 2: Search for the Unicorn**

"A child of the Haruno clan?" Cried out an agitated man as his posture clearly stated all that of frustration and utter disbelief.

His visible eye, uncovered from the heap of bandages that surrounded his face, blazed as he stared at his companion in sheer frustration.

As if suddenly realising his position, Danzo instantly calmed his heightened chakra level as he faced Jiraiya once again. This time he whispered in an urgent, almost threatening manner. "Have you gone _insane_ with old age, Jiraiya?"

From the corner of his eye, Jiraiya could see the child momentarily halt from exploring the grounds that held together the supposedly disbanded group referred to as 'Root'.

_It was as if she had heard._ Sakura hadn't turned to face them directly head on but somehow, he was certain she had heard every word of their 'private' conversation.

The child knew **everything** and Jiraiya would have it no other way.

"You have always been so impatient, Danzo-san," Jiraiya calmly replied back, allowing his rare display of neutrality to screen his entire being. But his next sentence was anything _but_ passive as his eyes glinted ever so briefly; indicating his extremely low tolerance with regards to the harsh comments on his ward. "It has not helped 'Root' in any way in the past and I am certain it will do no good this time, if their leader _continues_ to loose his temper ever so quickly." The warning was clear. _Back off._

After all, if Danzo knew what was good for him, he would _shut-the-hell-up_ this instant. No wonder Tsunade did not trust him.

An instant rise of tension consumed both powerful males.

The message was received with much hostility. With a more hardened expression, Danzo practically snarled out his next sentence through clenched teeth.

"If that is how you will play Jiraiya, so be it." The furious and harsh tone escalated. "I will not pursue this matter from this day forward but even **you** must be aware that a child – _the only survivor_ – of the Haruno clan will only harbour feelings of hatred and vengeance!" Danzo whispered with a rare display of panic in his eyes.

"That _thing_ will be the cause of our downfall, not just us, but all of Konoha!"

Jiraiya watched the child silently make her way through the wild garden towards the nearest exit, which would lead her away from this secluded building that established the organisation.

He did not bother calling out for her since he knew that the whole area was covered by a powerful jutsu, ensuring no possible detection from outsiders. The oncoming wind fluttered her red dress, now cleanly washed and dried, as she diminished into nothingness from his view. But before completely escaping from his sight, he caught her clutching protectively onto the fabric that hid her past away from this cruel harsh world.

The past that intertwined so painfully close with the dark, hidden chapters of Konoha.

The fading sound – almost like bells – created by her accessories gently guided Jiraiya back to reality.

_That sound, so familiar and yet so foreign._

It was like the forgotten name of an old folk song that lingered at the tip of your tongue.

_One Jiraiya had chosen not to recall in the past. _The painful cries of women and children, the blood spatters that had taken weeks to wash off his hands and the fire that had consumed and concealed all… He had ever so wanted to believe that these images were merely tricks of the unstable mind but no matter how he tried, the unspoken truth of the past refused to leave him – refused to let him rest in peace, refused to let him take his own life. It would forever be his curse. The guilt he would need to carry until the very end.

"Perhaps Danzo-san, but isn't it only natural after all that _we_ have done?" Jiraiya finally spoke; his companion as silent as the ancient trees that grimly surrounded the faction.

It was apparent that the fragrance of cherry blossoms could no longer be detected.

After all, she was no longer there.

* * *

The creature brought into life with a mere stroke of a brush on a delicate piece of paper, tackled the enemy with great ferocity.

The dark stripes, cunningly sharp claws, lightening agility as well as its strong, clear eyes; ripped the obstacle into oblivion. _Destructive_. Not real. _No emotions whatsoever_. Made-up. _Fake_.

With a quick mutter of words the summoned tiger disappeared in an instance without leaving a trace of its existence, as if nothing had existed beforehand.

Never allowing satisfaction to rise above his unreadable expressions, the young boy prepared to unleash another creation of his own doing.

"...Art that lives." It was a whisper of a breath – sharp yet so very soothing.

Almost out of habit, a plastic smile adorned his features in an instant as Sai detached his eyes from his scroll to stare at the young girl; the gentle breeze ruffling his raven locks in a teasing manner. The forest was dead silent except for the rhythmic sound of the rustling leaves.

She was a puny little thing, looking to be a little younger than himself. She did not look very pretty either.

Her ridiculous red dress (whoever bought it had bad taste) engulfed her tiny figure while her arms were filled with bracelets and charms of foreign symbols. Patterns Sai had never seen in any of the villages he had visited. She was a peculiar little thing.

...And who in their right mind would choose to be born with pink hair?

"Good morning to you too." Breaking out into an even deeper grin; Sai remembered to be extra polite to their guest – never once voicing out his opinions.

Those around him never seemed to appreciate his true inner thoughts for some reason, except for his self-sworn older sibling who merely accepted in amused reception. After a couple of minor incidents involving various individuals either breaking into tears or screaming tantrums, the elder of the two advised the younger artist to try and keep his remarks to a bare minimum. Without the slightest inclination as to why he was to do such a thing; Sai had reluctantly obliged after his latest victim threatened to quit the organisation if he was to hear anymore of his 'creative' comments. And that was mildly putting it.

"May I assist you with anything?" _Don't comment on her ugliness, don't comment on her ugliness_.

"Do you wish to?" After a brief contemplation, Sakura replied back with a question of her own. However, a hint of amusement was evident in emerald orbs.

Slightly unnerved by the look – as if she had read completely through him – Sai cautiously retrieved his steps. At least her voice wasn't squeaky or annoying. "Precisely the reason why I offered, miss."

"But did you offer because you really wished to help me?"

"Does it matter?" _The girl was trying his patience considerably_. "It wouldn't matter whether or not I wished to as long as I complete the deed."

"I suppose." With a faraway look, she let out a gentle whisper. "...I suppose it really doesn't matter anymore. After all, no one can recreate the dead; not even an artist like you."

With eyes that _pierced_, she did what no other had ever achieved before; she managed to make him **speechless**.

Before his inner turmoil could be properly accounted for in order to react to this _unprecedented_ conversation; a deep voice interrupted the two children.

"Sai! There you are!" A young ANBU with an all too-cheerful-looking grin instantly solidified in a blink of an eye. "Come, come now. We have to quickly hurry or else those brutes will steal all of the beef stew-"

Patting the young boy's hair like he was his favourite pet of the century, he continued badgering on until his attention landed upon the silent other. With unfazed eyes, Sakura promptly propelled herself forward, clutching her much smaller hand on the white fabric of the ANBU uniform while straining her neck to pivot back to fully accomodate her shorter height.

"...You are very pretty. Are all the ANBU as pretty as you?" And the rest was history.

Sai was both grateful and disturbed as a full grown male swayed at the comment and pounced into action.

If this little girl could reduce a fully qualified ANBU to a pile of mess; than he hadn't given her enough credit.

"Aww! Aren't you an absolute treasure!" With hearts exploding everywhere, Sakura was instantly enveloped in a suffocating hug; his cheeks rubbing enthusiastically against her own in a cat-like manner.

"You must be the pervert's companion. I've heard quite a lot about you. If I had known you would be this adorable, I would have completed the mission ages ago. How do you do, little one? My name is Shin."

Having slight difficulty in keeping up with the energetic assassin, the only surviving child of the Haruno clan quietly responded. "My name is Sakura."

"It's an absolute pleasure to meet you. Now, why don't you join Sai and me to a nice hearty lunch?"

Without even waiting for an affirmation, the two children found themselves hand in hand with the young ANBU as he pulled them towards the headquarters.

"And after lunch, you can help me and Sai capture a unicorn! I swear we're really close!"

And Sai could not help but groan at the prospect of it all.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"I met a boy without a face," Sakura whispered as Jiraiya began getting ready for bed, rolling out the futons. "I also met a very pretty looking ANBU."

Their nightly rituals usually consisted of him sitting beside her as she meditated silently for an hour or two. Sometimes he would join her but he had always preferred to watch. Instead of resuming with her normal evening activity, today she had dived straight into polishing her katana.

The three mysterious katana that always managed to take his breathe away.

She would always clean the _chiisakatana_ (a shorter katana lying between one and two shaku in length) first. It was a simple weapon designed for any individual but what always amazed him was the creamy colour, almost as pure as the snow. The feminine details in the design made him want to believe that the weapon was designed especially for the child, but alas he knew better.

He knew this all too well.

Then, she would pick up the _daito_ (long sword) next and cleanse it ever so gently. There was nothing particularly spectacular about this weapon except for the fact that a very long silk ribbon clung to the hilt of the sword. It reached well past the girl's current height.

It had to have been designed for someone at least double in size.

Finally, she would always gently stroke the _nodachi_ (the abnormally long blade), never drawing it from its sheath – at least in anyone's presence. Perhaps she polished that particular weapon when no one was in sight for he had never viewed the dangerous blade itself.

While she traced each blade delicately and affectionately, Jiraiya thought back to the previous events.

Danzo would stir trouble. That much was certain. Despite the dismissal of the issue at hand, the massacre of the Haruno clan was still a _touche_ subject that no one ventured to bring up.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that it had deeply scarred Root more so than Konoha.

Confrontation would be inevitable. But when the time came; Jiraiya would be ready. They would both be ready. After all, she knew how to take care of herself _very_ well.

"And did you like them?" Jiraiya asked just as quietly; afraid that the walls would hear his words. The organisation was still on edge and unstable. He had no intention of eliciting feelings of mistrust – at least, not quite yet. Their time would come.

Many members of 'Root' had left when the organisation had disbanded a few months ago. The internal conflict resulted in many of the members who had once sworn loyalty to discard their place of belonging and now, only a handful of ANBU members remained within these ancient walls. As if to retaliate against the loss they had endured, Danzo went straight into creating new missions and initiating new goals for the faction.

The only problem was that these new objectives were questionable and Jiraiya did not trust the over-ambitious man even for a second.

He also needed to investigate the cause of the conflict amongst the members.

Something was leading this organisation astray and he needed to find out what it was.

Danzo had been the aggressive rival of his own sensei the Third Hokage, the renowned Sarutobi. While training under his now deceased sensei, he had always detected the one-sided hostility between them. He simply could not tell if such conflict had been due to rivalry or that of betrayal.

What had Danzo been doing these past few years?

"Shin-san was very nice. He talks a lot. He also likes to look for imaginary creatures" Sakura calmly replied. "We spent the entire afternoon looking for a unicorn."

"And did you manage to locate one?"

"No, but Shin-san is certain we will tomorrow."

Chuckling at the usual antics of the eccentric ANBU, Jiraiya noted at the back of his mind to thank the young male. Perhaps a limited addition Icha Icha Paradise would do the trick?

Perfectly aware that the child would most certainly have detected his inappropriate train-of-thought; the old mortimer calmly awaited the usual look of disapproval.

But instead, all he received was a silent plea.

"They had done things to him, Jiraiya-sama," Sakura replied with her head slightly bowed to the ground.

Jiraiya hadn't even noticed the katana being veiled once more. She was standing directly in front of him, looking almost afraid. "...They had done _unspeakable_ things to him," she finally concluded. When he gathered her into his arms and felt her trembling, he did not utter out a single word. He forced himself from shaking in anger when he felt the wet tears as she snuggled further into his embrace.

He carefully leaned against the wall with the child lying nestled in his lap. He could taste something metallic in his mouth.

"And they will soon do the same to Sai-kun."

He could not force himself to respond as the dreadful images echoed around his head.

"...I think that's why Shin-san is looking for a unicorn." The tremors continued to wreck havoc to her small body. "But can unicorns stop the recreation of the dead?"

The distressed child suddenly turned rigid in his arms as she focused all her attention on the wall behind them.

"...The walls are whispering things."

He had to lean forward to catch the words that escaped her lips, almost an absent-minded chant. A wave of dread filled his senses as each single word pierced into his weary heart.

_Danzo…What are you doing?_

That night when Sakura finally drifted off into sleep, Jiraiya kept playing back the words she had whispered in terror.

Her voice haunted him that night.

**"****根****"****には****…****名前は無い、感情は無い****…  
_In Root... there are no names. There are no feelings..._**

**過去は無い****…****未****来****は無い。あるのは任務****…  
_There is no past... there is no future. There is only the mission..._**

**木ノ葉という大木を目に見えぬ地の中より支える、我****々****"****根****"****の意志****"  
_The will of us Roots supports this great tree called Konoha, invisible, from within the earth._**


	3. Older brother

**Chapter 3: Older brother**

Sai was absolutely furious.

"Let's race to see who can catch the rainbow first! Ready?" The young artist just barely refrained from ripping out his ear drums.

Shin's stupidity was something he was already accustomed to. It didn't surprise him the very least that the young ANBU would sprout out something as ridiculous as catching a _bloody_ rainbow.

When Sai had first encountered the flamboyant ANBU, he had just turned six years of age. Back then, Shin had been an ANBU-in-training. But that didn't mean he was less of a psychotic.

After one look at the timid young boy with unreadable ink like eyes and jet black hair; Shin had sprang forward just as he had done not a few months ago with another certain individual.

Utter shock didn't even _begin_ to cover his feelings.

Ignoring the angry shouts from Danzo-san; Shin had promptly discarded his training and opted for dragging a younger Sai deeper into the forest in top speed.

That had been the first time Sai had ever crawled on the dirty ground looking for 'magical' passages that would lead them to China.

It had been a freaking miracle Shin hadn't suggested they started digging.

Because knowing Shin, they would have done so until blisters covered the entire expanse of their hands.

Sai was no longer a confused six-year-old boy.

He had no need for unicorns, rainbows, uncovered treasures and fairies.

He certainly did not need to waste his precious afternoons on a wild goose chase.

_And yet_... And yet, whenever Shin's eyes glittered with such **pride** at his drawings; Sai could not help but relent.

"How do you want to spend your share of the treasure after we recover it at the end of a rainbow, Sai-kun?" Sakura enquired with that steady look in her eyes.

...It also didn't help that Shin had reinforcements these days.


	4. Hands of an artist

**Chapter 4: Hands of an Artist**

Sometimes, it would be short and brief.

But most of the times; they attacked with the ferocity of a tsunami.

It dragged her away from everything only to push her back into the endless turmoil of utter nothingness.

...And it was only then that she began to drown in its very essence.

She never screamed when it did though. She hadn't screamed since that fateful day.

Sakura would simply awaken with a quick jolt and promptly crawled into his embrace. He would never say anything and that was fine with her. She liked the silence.

He would smell faintly of ginger. Wrinkled hands encaging her in a familiar embrace. The child relished the warmth.

Other nights, she would make the long journey towards the room of the pretty ANBU.

He would say practically _anything_ that seemed to pop up in his mind. She didn't mind. She liked his rambling.

But on rare occasions, Sakura would invade the personal space of the faceless boy.

He never once stirred so it was alright to curl next to him, even though she knew he never appreciated being woken up in the middle of the night.

And just for that, she would start to _talk._

Forgotten tales, little snippets of certain events and pointless questions.

Like how she once had an older brother just like him. '_Did Sai-kun feel just as elevated whenever Shin-san praised his drawings?'_ she would ask. Their little village - the Haruno clan. The fateful day when it was reduced to ashes. **A** **massacre**. The blood of her parents covering the very soil of their village. An anguished cry and then, complete silence. A dreadful silence of death. Once her source of admiration; now a pitiful corpse lying protectively on top of her own battered body at the end of it all.

But it would soon result in slim fingers of an artist gingerly tracing her own.

That was always enough for Sakura to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

She had lost everything that day by the hands of specially trained assassins.

But it was alright that she was lying within the lair of her killers, that she was drifting off into sleep holding onto the hand of a boy who was being raised by the assassins of the night.

Sakura could still afford to live another day. There were unicorns to be caught and treasures to be uncovered.


	5. Hiddden intentions

**Chapter 5: Hidden intentions**

"How have you been, perverted old bastard?"

With the agility of a feline, the usually cheerful ANBU completed a set of deadly kicks before engaging with his kunai.

_Target practice it is_.

"You better not be planning to throw those at me." The _Gama Sannin_ warned playfully.

"And what if I am?"

"You'll never get to find that limited addition of Icha Icha Paradise." _Touche_.

"Calculated risks."

But the kunai was instantly replaced by a katana.

"...Danzo?"

"He'd be in Konoha by now."

"How'd you manage that?" The descending leaves were being sliced into pieces with every word.

"I pulled a couple of strings."

"..."

A blank look and Jiraiya had to admit the blatant truth.

"...I bribed Tsunade with a couple of sake bottles."

"That sounds more like it. How is everything going, old man?"

"I've uncovered a few things."

"Only a few?"

"It's more than enough."

"We don't have much time."

"We never had time."

Silence and more leaves being mutilated.

"But there _will_ be more than plenty of time left to pull Sai out of here."

"Yes."

"You **will** take him with you when this is over."

"...And you, Shin?"

"..."

"I would hate to make Sakura upset by not taking you with us."

A regretful smile and another sharp side swing.

"I agreed to being your informant on the condition that Sai will get out of this unharmed. I didn't think my safety was also included in the contract."

A taunting smirk that was so uncharacteristic of his usual carefree grin.

"...You can be included as an unwelcomed baggage then."

A quick chuckle.

"We need to leave soon. The others will notice."

"When is Hokage-sama planning the upheaval?"

"In a couple of months. But you will consider my proposition. Don't sell yourself short, Shin."

The oncoming wind was somewhat soothing and yet, there was a bite to it; blatant and simultaneously undetectable.

Perhaps a sign of some sort.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking that you can do this all by yourself. You weren't the only one there that night, Shin."

A silent plea and the older ninja evaporated into thin air.

With the katana in hand, the young ANBU merely stared into the far distance.

"...But why can't I still get the blood out of my hands?"


	6. Green tea and reconciliation

**Chapter 6: Green Tea and Reconciliation**

"Jiraiya-sama," the child finally spoke as she placed her teacup delicately on top of the table.

It was a lovely afternoon; warm and breezy.

Hence, both occupants were enjoying themselves with a leisurely afternoon tea out in the deck.

A most magnificant place where one could appreciate the entire forestry.

But the sensational greenery was not what had Jiraiya's attention.

An unsettling feeling resided within the very core of his being as he allowed his creased eyes to wonder. For some unknown reason, it had taken Jiraiya _four months_ and _fifteen days_ to finally figure this out.

...The child was going to stir _trouble_ with the passing years. He was most certain of that.

Lashes that curled innocently against her pure complexion, defined cheek bones that were starting to show with the slight loss of baby fat and exotic colours that would most certainly turn heads.

He could easily picture himself fighting off loads of fan boys swarming around the blossom.

_Dear Lord have **mercy**_.

Mentally fighting back down a groan, all Jiraiya could do was give a firm nod for her to continue. Best leave things until they crossed that particular bridge.

"Is vengeance a sin, Jiraiya-sama?" It was genuine curiosity on her part.

Ah; he wondered when _this_ particular bomb would be dropped on him.

At least with this particular catastrophe, he felt prepared and ready. It was something he had lived for all his life since that fateful day.

"Some may say so, little one. But others disagree with the notion that vengeance is a sin."

After all, who was he to judge?

"What of you, child?" The old mortimer gently pried. Taking a quick sip of the hot green tea in the process. "Would you and most importantly, could you forgive your antagonists?"

The taste swirled around the tip of his tongue; soothing the heavy silence consuming the entire area.

And he felt his heart sink when emerald orbs turned away.

But before he could take another gulp of the suddenly all too bitter tea, her voice echoed from across the table.

"...I haven't tried yet." An honest admission; so very much like her.

"All I've done is chase the other end of the rainbow."

And somehow, that was more than enough for Jiraiya.


	7. Important meal of the day: Breakfast

**Chapter 7: Breakfast, the most important meal of the day**

Deliberately rolling the spoonful of miso in the confines of her mouth, breakfast was being consumed as slowly and clinically as possible.

_Perhaps a little too slow for his liking_. _But she already knew that._

"Stop that." Sai snapped; except that no one could **really** tell due to the unnatural grin plastered on his face.

But the pink-haired other did; on top of the fact that she knew he absolutely detested the idea of people taking their time at the dining table.

For some reason, the ruthless artist could not seem to comprehend the reason behind the leisurely _mingling_ involved in between the process of consumption.

To him, meal time was as simple as the tasteless rations stored in the back shed.

You were to chew, swallow and move to the next mission at hand. It was as simple as that.

Carefully contemplating the skewed logic behind such a notion, Sakura thoughtfully paused as she popped an eggroll and chewed _thoroughly_.

There was an edge to his smile; not as wide as his usual ones and slightly tilted at both ends.

Sakura did not need to look twice to notice the rigidity of his jaw, indicating the high likelihood of his teeth being clenched together in that becoming manner of his.

"Stop what?" Slowly picking apart the grilled fish, the petite other innocently questioned.

"You know very well what I mean. Stop it. It's annoying." _Stop distracting me, Ugly_.

"...You're nervous." It was always an affirmation with this one; never a proposition.

"No, you're just getting on my nerves. They are two complete different things."

"Perhaps. But you are rarely this agitated."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dark ink eyes narrowed in warning.

_Absolutely nothing. But at least now you're distracted from your first mission jitters_. Amused emerald eyes answered for her.

Forcefully biting down on his inner cheeks; Sai opted for remaining silent and drank his tea in retaliation. He would **not** give her the satisfaction that she had, indeed, succeeded in calming down his nerves amidst their - yet another - _pointless_ banter. Sai had no idea whatsoever how she managed to do it. It was as if just a knowing look, a single touch, that _careful_ smile and he was instantly undone.

That ugly girl - another defense barrier that was increasingly becoming difficult to uphold - already knew enough to make him squirm uncomfortably; if Sai had been one of those types.

He did not need this on top of it all.

But there was also that tiny little fact that he trusted her with his life.

It was all a load of _bull_ if you asked him. This paradoxical and contradictory relationship they seemed to have spiralled into.

She was supposed to be just plain annoying. She wasn't supposed to be alluringly _simplistic_ and intensely _complex_. She should have run off crying by now. And yet, she chose to tag along side him; very much like that stupid ANBU.

...And she should have remained ugly as well - it would have been easy, with all that pink hair.

But it was always so hard to deceive himself when she looked at him with such _confidence_ and spurted out stuff like-

"You are going to be great. You have nothing to worry about."

Damn it.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Sai is only ten years old."

The recepient raised his eyes away from the paper work at hand in order to acknowledge the silent intruder.

Detection was getting harder and _harder_ with this one. A major disadvantage of having ANBU for employees, perhaps.

Nevertheless, not at all pleased with the prospect of being lectured on something he was already aware of, Danzo relented. "He will be eleven in a few months. This will be good practise for him."

"He is still a child." Shin completely ignored the warning; speaking as if the matter in itself was carved in stone.

"Precisely the reason why he needs to grow up."

"He is still a _child_." The glint in his eyes blazed in suppressed fury.

The warning was very clear: _back off_.

"What's your point, Shin?" Danzo growled at the repetitive mantra being thrown in his face.

Impatient and quick-tempered; their leader was still the same as ever.

"He is not ready to **kill**. He's only a child." The hardened voice repeated yet again.

"Half of us were already perfecting the skill of killing when we were his age."

"Do not pull that _bullshit_ on me, ever again; Danzo-san."

Drawing in a deep breath, the said male resumed back to the task of allocating missions.

"...I suggest you get started on _your_ mission before I loose my patience, Shin."

"And I suggest you rethink your decision before I loose mine."

"..."

Expecting the lack of response, Shin silently moved away from the seated individual - an underlying purpose evident in each step he took.

"Do not think even for a _second_ that I haven't forgotten your inexcusable mistake involving the Haruno clan." The low growl showed a little too much teeth. "Need I remind you of the substantive number of ANBU that have left after your incompetent blunder?" A quick side step and those eyes - glazed in absolute fury - ignited from across the room; intensifying the already heavy atmosphere. Fingering the kunai in a slow, deliberate manner; the calculated remarks continued on relentlessly.

"Or perhaps you need the names of those who committed suicide?"

"That is _enough_. You are excused." Danzo gritted out, not at all appreciating the threat at hand.

But when the kunai instantly **vanished**, only to be embedded to the wall not a breath away from the seated occupant; it represented the final stage of initiation.

"Maybe the old pervert would appreciate the disclosure of this...information."

"Get out!"

Satisfied at the expected outburst, Shin casually resumed with his departure.

"You may give my S-class mission to Yuki. I will be accompanying Sai to his first solo-mission."

It was never a request, not anymore.

"Mark my words; if he gets a mission of this nature ever again, you can consider yourself as having one less ANBU at your disposal. And your _precious_ assassination missions would be back-logged. Now, _that_ would truly be disastrous, wouldn't it Danzo-san?"

* * *

"So...all I have to do is knock him unconscious?"

Two individuals lay crouching in the densest part of the tree near one of the neighbouring countries of Konoha.

In an almost childish manner - one of the few occasions in which the young artist acted his age - Sai began deconstructing the leaves around him using his fingernails; disappointment evident in his eyes.

Smiling at the slightly dismayed body language of the younger boy, Shin could do nothing else but speak the truth. It was all he could give to the boy.

The usual set of playfulness was no where to be detected. Instead, a powerful _competent_ ninja stood his ground; emitting formidable strength.

"It's not just a matter of hitting him in the head, Sai." This was his forte. _They were in his element_. "As a professional ninja, you have to take into consideration a variety of complications that may come to rise."

"Have you taken into consideration the possibility of witnesses? What if the target detects you? What of the speed of the oncoming wind when it is time to throw the kunai?"

With every word, Sai found himself unconsciously straightening his back as curious ink orbs bore into his mentor.

"It is your job to consider and decide upon the best method of achieving this task." Gently guiding the young artist, both remained low and on guard at the end of the sturdy branch.

"Those who plan and execute most efficiently are able to distinguish themselves from the average bunch."

Strong calloused hand slid the smooth cold metal into much smaller ones. The sharpened edges speaking all that needed to be spoken. The familiar weight was comforting.

At the corner of his eye, Sai noted the approaching figure of his target. It tickled his senses but more over, the encouraging grip on his shoulder calmed his nerves.

"And I know that you are more than just average." Firmly positioning the kunai for better leverage; Sai readied himself. This was it. "Make me proud, Sai."

Everything went completely still, the sound of the birds and the rustling of the trees no longer registering; all except for the warm wind tugging him from behind.

_'You are going to be great. You have nothing to worry about.' _It relayed. And he believed her as always.

One kunai and a quick drawing and it was done.

But as they made their journey back home, the beaming boy never noticed the quick flick of the wrist, the gruesome sight of a shuriken embedding in soft warm flesh and the reflexive choke of the soon to be deceased victim.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"I'm back."

Sliding aside the doors, the ANBU half-expected the old pervert to be lurking somewhere as the warm scent of tea envaded his senses.

"Welcome back." A softer voice greeted from the side. An equally prettier sight receiving the exhausted ANBU with a tray in hand.

"Thank you, princess."

Gratefully taking the tea cup to his dry lips, Shin relished in the warmth as he sunk onto the tatami mat.

The mission in itself had been a piece of cake. It had only taken one shuriken, after all.

But it was rather, the aftermath that had been all too grueling. His comrades - bless their hearts - had decided to throw a mini celebration for Sai's very first mission.

It was undeniable that with the addition of the pink-haired beauty not a few months back, the usually asocial, sadistic and sharp-tongued artist was becoming more approachable. The party was not the issue. The problem was when Danzo had greeted the young aspiring ninja with a hearty slap on the back, all the while _promising_ things. Things that Shin knew all too well. Things that could easily over-excite ten year old boys. Things that needed to be stopped.

Hiding the arising smirk behind the tea cup, Shin gulped the entire content down his throat.

The war had just begun, after all. By the time Danzo realised what was going on, it would be too late.

"Yes, you will stop him." A small hand gently traced the side of his face; jolting him out of his thoughts. "And you did stop him today."

"I have." Shin automatically replied. Mesmerised by emerald orbs. Hypnotised by her regal presence.

Taking away the empty tea cup, Sakura resumed with her exploration; pressing against the frown lines that had appeared not a moment past.

"...Sai cannot recreate the dead." She reluctantly revealed.

"I know, little one."

"No matter how much they force him to, it cannot be done. It must **not** be done."

"Yes."

"You will stop them."

Kneeling before the petite other, Shin swore upon his very existence. His allegiance no longer monopolised by 'Root' or Danzo.

He had a new mistress to obey and an artist to protect. "I will."

But his hardened resolve dissolved into utter disbelief when she replied with those forbidden heavy words.

"And for that, I forgive you."

Eyes widening, Shin did what he hadn't done in a long time - he cried.


	8. History book

**Chapter 8: History book**

"What are you doing?"

Blank raven orbs and a fictitious grin.

Equally unreadable emerald orbs framed by soft pink hair.

The petite child lay sprawled across the library floor: the stuffy room containing books and parchments of all kind.

Her head was currently placed on top of a thick, roughly-patched hardcover.

"Reading." Revisiting, recollecting, _reliving_.

And Sai knew for a fact that she did this every single day. It was something she did at random parts of the day; very brief and always short.

It was strange, it was weird; but it was a routine. Even the old pervert never questioned, but would look away in silence.

...It **pissed **him off.

His smile fading quickly. "You've never even opened the damn thing."

He found himself smiling less and less in her presence; as if he no longer needed the protective barrier before pink and green. He hated this feeling of weakness and helplessness.

But even more so, he hated the smell of old, dusty worn out pages.

The artist _detested _how that particular beaten-up book held her hostage everytime. All that history stored in a single object.

Left her captivated, left her exhausted, left her looking a little more lost than the day before.

As if reading his very thoughts, Sakura held up her hands with an understanding smile.

Dragging the annoying little thing up to a standing position, Sai would have let out another snappy remark.

But when she leaned in, the top of her head lightly brushing against his chin; he instead found himself drawing her closer.

And she finally whispered.

"I don't need to." _Because she already knew the ending_.


	9. Birthday bash

**Chapter 9: Birthday bash**

"How do you feel?" Her soft voice ringing loudly against his hyper-sensitive ears.

Clenching his eyes shut, the raven-haired boy groaned as the world began spinning uncontrollably.

..._Maybe he shouldn't have sat up so quickly._

Allowing his thumping head to lean precariously against the wooden pillar, Sai attempted to work his dry throat.

Correction: His entirely all-too-sore and all-too-dry throat.

But before he could do something stupid like choke on his own spit, small hands raised the tea cup to his cracked lips.

It was only after two-whole servings of warm green tea did the young artist properly acknowledge the calming presence to his right.

"...I am **never **going to drink sake, ever again."

Amusement was dancing in emerald orbs.

Sai could only let out a pained groan in retaliation.

"It was most definitely a very..._interesting _evening." Sakura offered with a fond smile. "I had never seen so many grown men dance on top of the dining table."

He did not have the energy or the stomach for this. At least, not on this damn fine morning.

"You're up! How are you feeling Birthday Boy?" A most unwelcoming familiar yet _loud _voice boomed from the side.

Sai most certainly did **not **have _any _patience for an obnoxious ANBU.

Ignoring the additional burst of energy to his left, the young ninja opted to lying back down on his futon for the rest of eternity - using the covers to shield himself from the world.

After all, Shin's stupidity was contagious.

And Sai had no intentions of catching them on top of this _Mother-of-all-hang-overs_.

"Aww..so cold, so very cold. How heartless you are. Isn't he, Sakura?" Babbling on as he had always done, the ANBU instead turned his attention to the pink-haired beauty.

Despite the previous night's activities revolving around loads and loads of alcohol consumption, Shin did not seem affected in any particular way.

Instead, he seemed a little too happy-go-lucky, slightly chipper than his usual self. It was totally **unfair**.

Offering another quiet smile, the silent other began diligently rearranging the sheets displaying all that of grace and femininity.

"Ohohoho, how absolutely adorable! Sai-kun is so lucky to have such a caring girlfriend. I never had anyone tuck me in. Why, to have such a devoted partner...I am truly envious my dear boy! Now, Sakura would make the very best housewife for-" The mindless rambling coming to a momentary halt as a kunai - slightly unsteady and very much forced - flew past; just narrowly missing the talkative individual's left cheek. "Alright, alright! No need to use your emergency kunai like that. I was just kidding! I'm going, I'm going." Still in good humour, a quick wink was all that was presented to the grinning pink-haired child as the older ninja made himself scarce.

And as spontaneously as he had appeared, the ANBU was no where in sight.

"Good-for-nothing-ANBU who doesn't know when to shut his trap; I swear I'll sew his mouth together one of these days..."

Never once emerging from his barricade of bed covers, the young boy muttered darkly.

With an understanding pat on his back, Sakura gently rose to leave her furious [hung-over] companion only to have him complaining louder.

"Where are you going?" The almost needy protest hanging in his undertone.

But for once, Sai didn't give a shit. Not when his brain was being trampled by a herd of rhinos.

"To the library."

The library. The stuffy library where mountains and mountains of scrolls, documents and books resided. The library he would have not ended up _detesting _if it wasn't for that book. That one singular object. That **one **book that would have emerald orbs looking glazed. On sheer principle, Sai would have remained outside the 20 meter radius from that hateful little bundle of paper. But curiosity - as always - had him glancing over whenever he passed by the room filled with the smokey scent of tradition and time.

And on that fateful afternoon when she had delicately leaned against him just so, he had relented. The young artist had plucked the thick history book with dark crimson covers out of her small delicate hands. For the first time since he had stopped his forceful smiles before pink and green, for the first time since the term 'Ugly' shifted away from the literal depiction to a sort of endearment; Sai accepted her little window into the past.

He still did not approve. That much she was already aware of.

How could he when it only brought visible pain?

But if she chose to voluntarily torture herself by revisiting, recollecting, and _reliving_; all Sai could offer were his footsteps and his drawings.

"...Stay." He offered his acceptance. Bed sheets kicked aside, raven orbs blazed. "Skip the library and stay."

_Baby steps_.

He still wasn't ready to open that damn history book just yet. Sai wasn't sure if he would ever be ready.

But the very first step had been initiated by removing it from those delicate hands. _He would share her heavy burden_.

He would share her heavy burden if she chose to share by **staying**.

Cool fingers grazed lightly against the side of his face; tracing those lines that radiated determination and stubbornness.

Emerald orbs shook ever so softly.

The term 'Ugly' being the furtherest thing from his stunned mind with that genuine loving smile.

And the slight tremour in her tender voice was the final affirmation the young boy had ever needed.

"...Happy 11th Birthday, Sai-kun."


	10. A fangirl at heart

**Chapter 10: A Fangirl at Heart**

Honestly, his [self-proclaimed] younger brother was the most adorable 11-year-old.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it Sakura?" Shin casually asked.

Barely reaching his upper torso, the petite pink-haired child silently nodded.

Noticing, yet again, the deep sparkle in emerald orbs, the energetic ANBU barely refrained from squealing like a teenage girl.

In all truth, his mistress was the most charming little thing.

Like a perfect porcelain doll.

So very elegant and so very captivating with her unspoken yet piercing ways.

A porcelain doll whose destiny remains well-beyond the confines of a cabinet.

His Saver, his ultimate sin, his _forgiver_, his very **salvation**.

"Goodness me, how you must _suffer _my dear girl with these books placed so _high _up on the book shelf." With cat-like grace, the much taller male plucked the most recent edition on the extensive thesis 'The Methodological Studies on Chakra Control and Regenerative Techniques'. As the thick hardcover was placed on top of eager awaiting hands, Shin ignored the dark **death **glare from the side.

...A furious frown from another individual who was equally too _short _to reach the top of the shelves.

As the oblivious cherry blossom smiled brightly up at her saviour, the ANBU had to bite down on the inside of his cheeks in order to refrain from giggling like a maniac.

Really, Sai needed to perfect his next important skill as a rising ninja: the technique of subtlety.

Patting the top of silky pink locks, Shin proudly escorted their little princess to help her with the more difficult sections.

Shaking his head in feigned innocence at Sakura's questioning glance at their fuming artist, Shin promptly flipped through the chapters in poise and confidence.

And when Jiraiya brought in their afternoon snack to the little corner of the library, Shin's dazzling performance never faltered - not once.

Even when a thoroughly pissed-off Sai reached for the milk carton and drowned the entire thing in one go.

Truly, he was the most adorable younger brother when jealous and green with envy.


	11. Missing puzzle pieces

**Chapter 11: Missing puzzle pieces**

The usually bustling corridors were uncharacteristically silent and void of any movement.

Normally, Sakura would pass by at least one ANBU rushing off to his or her mission – muttering under their masks how unprofessional it was to be late.

It was a well-kept secret, but she always anticipated bumping into Yuki-san.

The soft-spoken ANBU, a close companion of Shin-san, would always pat her cheeks before presenting her with sweet candies that melted and, in turn, coated her tongue.

She did not mind the babying antics _much_, as long as bursts of sweetness exploded in her mouth afterwards.

Sometimes, the pink-haired child would assist the kitchen assistants with their endless tasks of carrying food trays back and forth.

With the spacious kitchen being situated at a completely different compartment from the general halls of the Root Organisation, it meant a significant amount of effort was being placed in order to make sure the food actually reached the tables. By the time the allocated cuisine of the day was distributed to the very corners of the gigantic hall, it would quickly commence with clean-up as well as the preparations for the next meal.

Such chaos and disorder was something the small child **still **could not comprehend.

Today, however, there was no ANBU member late for their mission, there was no soft-spoken Yuki-san and rations of lollies, and there was certainly no kitchen staff running around like headless chickens.

Instead, there was only Danzo.

"My, what do we have here? I see someone is late for her afternoon tea session with Jiraiya." Emerald orbs regarded the white bandage wrapped around the side of the elder's face. The lines criss-crossed, overlapped, and blurred over the rough patches of his exposed skin like an intricate puzzle set Sakura remembers playing with as a child. It had been a gift from her parents.

For a brief moment, she wondered whether those pure marble pieces survived the fire.

They should have been back at their home, scattered across her bedroom floor with all her other trinkets that cemented her entire childhood. Her brief, short yet very much treasured memories of innocent naivety and blissful ignorance.

But when her older brother had slashed across the throat of another strange darkly-clad figure – this one adorning a feline mask – Sakura did not have it in her heart to voice her displeasure. It was nothing to do with the fact that those puzzle pieces had been hand-crafted by her gentle father. Similarly, it was not that they had been presented to her on her sixth birthday inside a velvet pouch hand-stitched by her kind mother.

After all, puzzle pieces – no matter how intricate – could be replaced.

...But not family members.

Her puzzle pieces had been scattered all over the grand banquet hall of the Haruno clan, next to the dead corpses of her murdered parents.

"How are you enjoying your stay in Root? Is it to your liking?" The gruff voice continued on, his single eye already tense and ready.

It reminded her of those wild wolves that had lived in packs near the outskirts of her village.

Her breath caught at her throat while teeth clenched together instinctively. And just as she had been taught as a child – as the younger daughter of the village leader – the pink-haired kunoichi opted for dignified **silence**. _It was the only thing she could afford right now_. Especially when this untamed man reminded her – once again – of familiar rough calloused hand pulling her away to safety and the unbearable heat of the fire radiating against her back as the pair ran towards the unknown. The ground had become increasingly uneven as they made it near the clearings leading into the deep woods. And just as her older sibling – her dearest, most beloved brother – pulled to cradle her trembling form in order to make that first leap, the deadly sound of skin being _pierced_...

...Sakura remembers the stench of blood and the ridiculous **white **of the killer's hair as he stood over the fallen pair; the limp heavy arm draped over her petite body making it difficult for her to breathe. But above all else, she remembers most clearly the commanding _voice _booming in the background, giving out orders of total annihilation.

And it was the same voice that had her shaking and convulsing in the middle of the night while it made her stomach clench with hot fury in the brightness of the day.

Because it was what started it all…

It was what started this bloody cycle of hate, vengeance and uncontrollable fury. And it would be what she would come to face at the end of this path.

Something must have shown in her face for the imposing male flinched momentarily, before leaning in closer – the stench of burned wood making her nauseous and dizzy.

"Remember, little one. To be a shinobi is to sacrifice oneself. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good – _just as we did on that fateful day_."

But before the Faction Leader could turn his back towards the petite creature, burning emerald orbs **pierced**, holding him captive in his crouched stance.

"…And it will do you good to remember, Danzo-san, that you will forever be the roots that grow in the dark."

The frozen shinobi vaguely recalls seeing pink locks fluttering against the wind as the small figure made the turn around the corner, completely disappearing from his field of vision.

Her chilling prophecy the only thing ringing in his ears.

"..._You will forever remain in the dark, Danzo-san, while others become the leaves bathing in the sun_."


	12. Trade Agreement

**Chapter 12: Trade Agreement**

The festivities were just as bright and well-spirited as those in Konoha.

Chewing carefully through a spicy chicken wing, Jaraiya relaxed instinctively as another young woman filled his empty cup with rich warm sake.

The food – foreign and adorned in exotic spices – was impeccable while the village civilians were as friendly as they were attentive.

Sitting in a circular setting, the notion of infinity being a huge thing in the Haruno Clan as evident in their insignia, the entire village came together on this joyous occasion with great enthusiasm.

There was laughter everywhere, little children running around, the sound of music and the sight of the colourful dancers filling up the entire grand hall.

The talk of a renewed trade agreement was a definite success.

He was still ignorant of the minor details though.

After all, the supposed [amended] 'contract' had been conjured up by the intelligence department back in Konoha.

And Jiraiya had always been one to stay well away from paper work.

In all truth, he was still uncertain as to why they – posing as harmless Konoha representatives – had been allowed access into the village. Hastily swallowing the succulent piece of meat, he calmly awaited the signal.

Well-known for their exceptional skills in weapon craftsmanship, this secluded village of moderate size had always been a subject of great scrutiny. Unlike other neighbouring communities, the Haruno Clan opted to keep things to themselves. Even for their previous trade agreements, no outsider had ever been allowed to venture into the village, that is, until today. When Jiraiya and a handful of disguised Root ANBU members, including Danzo, had entered past impressive gates this very afternoon, the complex interior of the village had stunned them into complete silence. Merging perfectly well with the surrounding forest, the wooden and stone infrastructures were aesthetically breath-taking and immensely practical. He could easily picture the advantages a shinobi would have if enemies were to attack from any direction.

At initial glance, the political regime within the Haruno Clan seemed to be quite similar to that of Konoha with a handful of council members led by the Clan Leader. He seemed to be a sensible sort of man, a heavy build with rough-calloused hands that showed experience and hard work. If it hadn't been for the abnormally long katana with a worn hilt secured to his back, Jiraiya would have suggested the Haruno Head be more well-suited as a builder or a carpenter. And in all truth, the village seemed much more peaceful than **any **he had encountered in his many years of existence.

The Haruno Clan never participated in the ninja tournaments nor were they big on the assassination industry. And yet, Jiraiya's sharp eyes could easily detect the graceful deadliness in their movements; more so for those with the white circle insignia stitched to the back of their clothing. It was the subtle yet silent strength that every ninja trained for. It was obvious they would be a formidable force in battle.

Nevertheless, even when the signal finally came into light, Jiraiya still could not erase the uneasiness grappling his heart.

After all, it would not be a battle – far from it.

There would only be mindless slaughter tonight.


End file.
